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“[…] In the clear sky, where to the east there is now a completely rosy zone, which is spreading out more and more widely, but where, however, there are no sunbeams as yet, a very bright meteor appears, coming from unknown depths, and it descends like a sphere of fire of unsustainable splendor, followed by a glowing trail, which perhaps is nothing but the persistence of its brightness in our retinae. It descends at a very high speed towards the Earth, shedding such an intense phantasmagoric light, frightful in its beauty, that the rosy light of dawn vanishes, outshone by such white incandescence.

The guards, astonished, raise their heads, also because with the light comes a mighty, harmonious, solemn rumble that fills the whole of Creation with its roar. It comes from heavenly depths. It is the alleluia, the angelical glory that follows the Spirit of the Christ, which is returning to His glorious Flesh. The meteor clashes on the useless closure of the Sepulcher, tears it off, throws it on the ground, and it strikes with terror and noise the guards placed as jailors of the Master of the Universe, producing with its return to the Earth a new earthquake, as it had caused one when this Spirit of the Lord fled from the Earth. It enters the dark Sepulcher that becomes all bright with its indescribable light, and while it remains suspended in the still air, the Spirit is infused again into the Body motionless under the funereal bandages. All this takes place not in a minute, but in the fraction of a minute, so fast have been the appearance, descent, penetration and the disappearance of the Light of God…

The «I want» of the divine Spirit to its cold Body is noiseless. It is uttered by the Essence to the immobile Matter. But no word is perceived by the human ear. The Flesh receives the order and obeys it with a deep sigh… nothing else for some minutes. Under the Sudarium and the Shroud, the glorious Body is recomposed in eternal beauty, it awakes from the sleep of death, and it comes back from the «nothing» in which it was, it lives after being dead. The heart certainly awakes and gives its first throb; it propels the remaining frozen blood through the veins and at once creates the full measure of it in the empty arteries, in the immobile lungs, in the dark brain, and brings back warmth, health, strength, thought.

Another moment, and there is a sudden movement under the heavy Shroud. It is so sudden that, from the moment He certainly moves His folded arms to the moment He appears standing, imposing, splendid in His garment of immaterial matter, supernaturally handsome and majestic, with a gravity that changes and elevates Him, and yet leaves Him exactly Himself, the eye has hardly time to follow the development. And now it admires Him: so different from what the mind remembers, tidied up, without wounds or blood, only blazing with the light that gushes from the five wounds and issues from every pore of His skin.

When He takes His first step – and in the movement the rays emanating from His Hands and Feet halo Him with beams of light: from His Head haloed with a garland, made with the countless little wounds of the crown, but they no longer bleed but only shine, to the hem of His tunic, when, opening His arms, that were folded across His chest, He uncovers the zone of very bright luminosity that filters through His tunic inflaming it like a sun at the height of His Heart – then it is really the «Light» that has taken a body. Not the poor light of the Earth, not the poor light of the stars, not the poor light of the sun. But the Light of God: all the heavenly brightness that gathers in one Being and grants Him its inconceivable azure as eyes, its golden fire as hair, its angelic whiteness as garment and complexion and all that exists, but cannot be described by human words, the super eminent ardor of the Most Holy Trinity, that outshines with its ardent power every fire in Paradise, absorbing Him in Itself to generate Him again at each moment of the eternal Time, Heart of Heaven that attracts and spreads His blood, the countless drops of His incorporeal blood: the blessed souls, the angels, everything there is the Paradise: the love of God, the love for God, all this is the Light that is, that forms the Risen Christ.

When He moves, coming towards the exit, and the eye can see beyond His brightness, two most beautiful brilliances, but similar to stars compared with the sun, appear to me, one on this side, the other on the other side of the threshold, prostrated in the adoration of their God, Who passes by enveloped in His light, beatifying with His smile, and He goes out, leaving the funereal grotto and going back to walk on the earth, that awakes out of joy and shines in its dews, in the hues of herbs and roseries, in the countless corollas of apple-trees, that open, by a wonder, to the early sun that kisses them, and to the eternal Sun Who proceeds under them.

The guards are there, shocked… The corrupt powers of man do not see God, whereas the pure powers of the universe – the flowers, herbs, birds – admire and venerate the Mighty One, Who passes by in a halo of His own Light and in an aureola of sunlight. His smile, His eyes that rest on flowers, on dead branches that look up at the clear sky everything becomes more beautiful. And more soft and shaded than a silky rosery are the millions of petals forming flowery foam on the head of the Conqueror. And brighter are the diamonds of the dew. And of a deeper blue is the sky reflecting His refulgent eyes, and more joyful is the sun that with gladness paints a little cloud blown by a light wind, that comes to kiss its King with scents stolen from gardens and with caresses of silky petals.

Jesus raises His Hand and blesses and then, while the birds sing more loudly and the wind carries its scents, He disappears from my sight, leaving me in a joy that cancels even the slightest remembrance of sadness and sufferings and hesitancy for tomorrow…” […]

“The Magdalene, is just on the border of the path that takes one to the kitchen garden of Joseph of Arimathea, when she is caught in the powerful and also harmonious roar of this heavenly sign, while, in the faint rosy light of dawn, that is advancing in the sky, where to the west a persistent star still resists, and that makes fair the so far greenish light, a very bright light appears and descends like and incandescent wonderful globe, cutting the calm air in a zigzag course. Mary of Magdala is almost grazed and thrown on the ground by it. She bends for a moment whispering: «My Lord!» and then she straightens up like a stalk after the wind has passed by, and she runs towards the kitchen garden even faster. She enters it quickly, and goes towards the Sepulcher in the rock as fast as a bird that is chased and is looking for its nest. But, no matter how fast she runs, she cannot be there when the heavenly meteor acts as a lever and as a flame on the seal of lime, placed as a reinforcement for the heavy stone, or when with the final crash the stone door collapses, causing such a shake that joins the one of the earthquake, which, although of a short duration, is so violent that it knocks the guards down as if they were dead.

When Mary arrives, she sees the useless jailors of the Triumpher thrown on the ground like a sheaf of mown corn. Mary Magdalene does not associate the earthquake with Resurrection. But looking at the spectacle, she thinks it is a punishment of God for the desecrators of Jesus’ Sepulcher, and she falls on her knees saying: «Alas! They have stolen Him!» She is really disconsolate and weeps like a girl who has come, being sure that she would find her father whom she was looking for, and instead finds the house empty.

She then stands up and runs away to go to Peter and John. And as she thinks of nothing but of informing the two, she forgets to go and meet her companions and remain on the road, but as fast as a gazelle she goes back the road she came, she passes through the Judicial Gate, and flies through the streets, which are a little more crowded, and she rushes against the door of the hospitable house and knocks at it furiously. The mistress opens the door to her.

«Where are John and Peter?» asks Mary Magdalene panting.

«There» says the woman pointing at the Supper-room.

Mary of Magdala enters and as soon as she is in, standing before the two astonished men, and in her voice, kept low out of pity for the Mother, there is more anguish than if she had shouted, she says: «They have taken the Lord away from the Sepulcher! I wonder where they have put Him!» and for the first time she staggers and is unsteady, and in order not to fall, she holds on whatever she can.

«What? What are you saying?» ask the two.

And panting she replies: «I went ahead… to buy the guards… so that they would let us go. They are there like dead bodies… The Sepulcher is open, the stone is on the ground… Who? Who did it? Oh! come! Let us run…»

Peter and John set out at once. Mary follows them for a few steps. Then she goes back. She seizes the mistress of the house, she shakes her, violent in her far-sighted love, and she shouts in her face: «Mind you do not let anybody go to Her (and she points at the door of Mary’s room). Remember that I am your mistress. Obey and be silent.» Then she leaves her aghast and joins the apostles, who are striding towards the Sepulcher…

[…] John, who runs faster, is the first to arrive at the Sepulcher. The guards are no longer there. Neither is the angel there anymore. John, timid and sorrowful, kneels down at the open entrance to venerate and get some indication from the things he sees. But he only sees, heaped on the floor, the linen cloths placed on the Shroud.

Peter, who is breathless after so much running, goes into the Sepulcher. On the way he had said: «I will never dare to approach that place.» But now he thinks only of finding out where the Master may be. And he calls Him also, as if He might be concealed in some dark corner. At this early hour in the morning it is still very dark in the deep Sepulcher, which receives light only from the opening of the entrance, where John and the Magdalene now cast a shadow… And Peter finds it hard to see, and has to help himself with his hands to ascertain what the situation is… He touches, trembling, the table of the anointment, and feels that it is empty…

«He is not here, John! He is not here! Oh! Come here! I have wept so much that I can hardly see in this poor light.»

John stands up and goes in. And while he does so, Peter discovers the sudarium in a corner, folded diligently and within it the Shroud rolled up carefully.

«They have really abducted Him. The guards were not here for us, but to do that… And we have let them do it. By going away, we have allowed that…»

«Oh! where will they have put Him?»

«Peter, Peter! This… is really the end!»

The two disciples come out looking annihilated. «Let us go, woman. You will tell the Mother…»

«I am not going away. I am staying here… Somebody will come… Oh! I am not coming… There is still something of Him here. The Mother was right… To breathe the air where He was is the only relief left to us.»

«The only relief… Now you also can see that it was nonsense to hope…» says Peter.

Mary does not even reply to him. She crouches on the ground, close to the entrance, and weeps, while the others go away slowly. She then raises her head and looks inside, and through her tears she sees two angels, sitting at the head and at the foot of the anointment stone. Poor Mary is so stupefied in her fiercest struggle between hope that is dying and faith that does not want to die, that she looks at them like one whose mind is completely blank, without even being surprised. The strong woman, who has resisted everything like a heroine, has nothing left but tears.

«Why are you weeping, woman?» asks one of the two shining young boys, because they look like very beautiful adolescents.

«Because they have taken away my Lord and I do not know where they have put Him.» Mary is not afraid to speak to them. She does not ask: «Who are you?» nothing. Nothing amazes her any more. She has already suffered everything that can astonish a human being. Now she is only a broken thing that weeps without strength or reserve.

The angelical youth looks at his companion and smiles. And so does the other. And in a flash of angelical joy they both look outside, towards the garden all in bloom with millions of corollas that have opened at the first sunshine on the closely planted apple trees of the orchard.

Mary turns round to see who they are looking at. And she sees a Man, most handsome, and I do not know how she does not recognize Him at once. A Man Who looks at her pitifully and asks her:

«Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?»

It is true that Jesus is dimmed out of pity for the woman, whom emotions have exhausted and who might die from sudden joy, but I really wonder why she does not recognize Him. And Mary sobbing says:

«They have taken my Lord Jesus! I had come to embalm Him while awaiting His resurrection… I gathered all my courage, my hope and my faith around my love… and now I cannot find Him any more… Or rather, I put my love around faith, hope and courage to defend them from men… but all in vain! Men have abducted my Love and with it they have deprived me of everything… O my lord, if you have taken Him away, tell me where you have put Him. And I will get Him… I will not tell anybody… It will be a secret between you and me. Look: I am the daughter of Theophilus, Lazarus’ sister, but I am on my knees before you to implore you, like a slave. Do you want me to pay you for His Body? I will do so. How much do you want?

I am rich. I can give you as much gold and as many gems as it weighs. But give it back to me. I will not denounce you. Do you want to strike me? Do so. Until I bleed, if you wish so. If you bear Him a grudge, let me expiate it. But give Him back to me. Oh! don’t make me wretched with this misery, my lord! Have mercy on a poor woman!… Do you not want to do it on my behalf? Then, do it for His Mother. Tell me! Tell me where my Lord Jesus is. I am strong. I will take Him in my arms and I will carry Him like a child to safety. Lord… lord… you can see it… for three days we have been struck by the wrath of God for what was done to the Son of God… Do not add Desecration to Crime…»

«Mary!» Jesus shines in calling her. He reveals Himself in His triumphant brightness.

«Rabboni!» Mary’s cry is really the «great cry» that closes the cycle of death. With the first one, the darkness of hatred enveloped the Victim with funereal bandages; with the second, the lights of love increased His brightness.

And Mary stands up as her cry fills the garden, she rushes to Jesus’ feet and would like to kiss them. Jesus moves her away, hardly touching her forehead with the tips of His fingers: «Do not touch Me! I have not yet ascended to My Father in this appearance. Go to My brothers and friends, and tell them that I am ascending to My Father and yours, to My God and yours. And then I will come to them.» And Jesus disappears, absorbed by an unsustainable light.

Mary kisses the ground where Jesus was and she runs towards the house. She goes in like a rocket, because the main door is half open, to let the master pass, who is going to the fountain; she opens the door of Mary’s room and drops on Her breast shouting: «He has risen! He has risen!» and she weeps happily.”

Source: Maria Valtorta

2. According to Science:

It is estimated that 34 trillion Watts would be needed to recreate the image on the Shroud in laboratory. Today’s technology can only generate up to a few billion Watts.

Jesus says:”You must be able to tell the difference between an idle word and a useful one. A word is idle, and sin generally flourishes in idleness, when one speaks of other people’s faults with someone who can do nothing about them. Then it is plainly lack of charity, even if what one says is true. As it is lack of charity to reproach someone more or less sharply without giving advice at the same time. And I am referring to just reproaches. The others are unfair and they are a sin against our neighbour. But when one sees one’s neighbour commit sin, and one suffers because that person offends God and injures his soul, and one realises that one cannot estimate the gravity of someone else’s sin, neither does one feel wise enough to speak words that may work a conversion, and then one applies to a just and wise person confiding one’s anxiety, then one does not commit sin, because one’s disclosure aims at putting an end to a scandal and at saving a soul. It is the same as if one had a relative suffering from a shameful disease. One will certainly try to conceal it from people, but one will go secretly to a doctor and say: “My relative is suffering from so and so and I do not know how to advise and cure him. Please come or tell me what I must do”. Does one in that case lack love for one’s relative? No. On the contrary one would lack love if one feigned not to notice the disease and allowed it to progress and bring about death, through a mistaken feeling of prudence and love.”

I see the solitary land which I already saw on my left-hand side in the vision of Jesus’ baptism in the Jordan. But I must be some way inside the desert, because I neither see the beautiful, blue, slow flowing river, nor the green strips of vegetation which coast its banks, and are nourished by its waters. There is nothing here but solitude, stones and such a parched earth that it has become a yellowish dust, raised now and again by the wind in small eddies, which are so hot and dry that they seem to be the breath of a feverish mouth. And they are very troublesome because of the dust penetrating nostrils and throats. There are a very few small thorny bushes, strangely surviving in so much deslolation. They look like small forelocks of surviving hair on a bald head. Above, there is a merciless blue sky; below, arid land; around, stones and silence. That is what I see as far as nature is concerned.
Leaning against a huge piece of overhanging rock which, because of its shape, forms a kind of grotto, there is Jesus sitting on a stone that has been taken into the cave. That is how He protects Himself from the scorching sun. And my internal adviser informs me that the stone, on which He is now sitting, is also His kneeling-stool and pillow, when He takes a few hours rest, enveloped in His mantle, under a starry sky in the chill air of the night. Near Him, there is a haversack which I saw Him take before departing from Nazareth. It is all He has. And from the way it is folded, I realise it has been emptied of the little food Mary had put into it.
Jesus is very thin and pale. He is sitting with His elbows resting on HIs knees, His forearms foreward, His hands joined and His fingers interlaced. He is meditating. Now and again He looks up and around, then looks at the sun, almost perpendicular in the blue sky. Now and again, particularly after looking around and at the sun, He closes His eyes and leans on the rock sheltering Him, as if He were seized by dizziness.

I see Satan’s ugly face appear. He does not show himself in the features we imagine him: horns, tail, etc. He looks like a bedouin enveloped in his robe and in a large mantle that resembles a domino. He is wearing a turban on his head and its white flaps fall along his cheeks, down to his shoulders protecting them. Thus only a very small dark triangle of his face can be seen, with thin, sinuous lips, very black hollow eyes, full of magnetic flashes. Two eyes that penetrate and read into the bottom of your heart, but in which you can read nothing, or one word only: mystery. The very opposite of Jesus’ eyes, also so magnetic and fascinating, which read in your heart, but in which you can also read that in His Heart there is love and bounty for you. Jesus’ eyes caress your soul. Satan’s are like a double dagger that stabs and burns you.

He approaches Jesus: “Are You alone?”
Jesus looks at him, but does not reply.
“How did You happen to be here? Did You get lost?”
Jesus looks at him again, and is silent.
“If I had water in my flask, I would give You some. But I have none myself. My horse died, and I am now going on foot to the ford. I will get a drink there, and I will find someone who will give me some bread. I know the road. Come with me. I’ll take You there.
Jesus does not even look at him.
“You are not answering? Do You know that if You stay here, You will die? The wind is already beginning to blow. There will be a storm. Come.”
Jesus clenches His hands in silent prayer.
“Ah! It is You, then? I have been looking for You for such a long time! And I have been watching You for so long. Since You were baptized. Are You calling the Eternal? He is far away. You are now on earth, in the midst of men. And I reign over men. And yet, I feel sorry for You, and I want to help You, because You are so good, and you have come to sacrifice Yourself for nothing. Men will hate You because of Your goodness. They understand northing, but gold, food and pleasure. Sacrifice, sorrow, obedience are words more arid for them that the land around us here. They are more arid for them than this dust. Only snakes can hide here, waiting to bite, and jackals waiting to tear to pieces. Come with me. It is not worthwhile suffering for them. I know them better than You do.”
Satan has sat down in front of Jesus and he scrutinizes Him with his dreadful eyes, and smiles at Him with his snakelike mouth. Jeus is always silent, and is praying mentally.
“You don’t trust me. You are wrong. I am wisdom of the earth. I can be Your teacher and show You how to triumph. Then, once we have imposed ourselves and we have enchanted the world, then we can take them wherever we want. But first, we must be as they wish us to be. Like them. We must allure them, making them believe that we admire them and follow their thoughts.
You are young and handsome. Start with a woman. One must always start from her. I made a mistake inducing her to be disobedient. I should have advised her differently. I would have turned her into a better instrument, and I would have beaten God. I was in a hurry. But You! I will teach You, because one day I looked at You with angelic joy, and a fraction of that love is still left in me, but You must listen to me, and make use of my experience. Find yourself a woman. Where you do not succeed, she will. You are the new Adam: You must have Your Eve.
In any case, how can You understand and heal the diseases of the senses, if You do not know what they are? Don’t You know that that is where the seed is, from which the tree of greediness and arrogance sprouts? Why do men want to reign? Why do they want to be rich and powerful? To possess woman. She is like a lark. She will be attacted only by something sparkling. Gold and power are two sides of the mirror that draw woman, and are the causes of evil in the world. Look: in a thousand different crimes, there are at least nine hundred that take root in the lust of possessing a woman or in the passion of a woman, burning with a desire that man has not yet satisfied, or can no longer satisfy. Go to a woman if You want to know what life is. And only then, You will be able to cure and heal the diseases of mankind.
Women, You know, are beautiful! There is nothing nicer in the world. Man has brains and strength. But woman! Her thought is a perfume, her touch is the caress of flowers, her grace is like wine, pleasant to drink, her weakness is like a hank of silk, or the curl of a child in a man’s hand, her caress is a strength which is poured over our own strength, and inflames it. Sorrow, fatigue, worries are forgotten when we lie near a woman, and she is in our arms like a bunch of flowers.
But what a fool I am! You are hungry and I am talking to You of women. Your energy is exhausted. That is why that fragrance of the earth, that flower of creation, the fruit that gives and excites love, seems without any value to You. But look at these stones. How round and smooth they look, gilded by the setting sun! Don’t they look like loaves? Since You are the Son of God, all You have to say is: ‘I want’ and they will become sweet-smelling bread, just like the loaves housewives are now taking out of their ovens for the supper of their families. And these arid acacias, if You only wish so, will they not be filled with sweet fruit and dates as sweet s honey? Eat your fill, Son of God. You are the Master of the earth. The earth is bowing down to put itself at Your feet and appease Your hunger.
Don’t You see that You are turning pale and unsteady at the mention of bread? Poor Jesus! Are You so weak that You cannot even work a miracle? Shall I work it for You? I am not Your equal, but I can do something. I will do without any strength for a whole year, I will gather it all together, but I want to serve You, because You are good, and I always remember that You are my God, even if now I have forfeited calling You so. Help me with Your prayers, that I may…”
“Be quiet! Man does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.”
The devil starts with anger. He grinds his teeth, and clenches his fists. But he controls himself, and turns his grinding into a smile.
“I understand. You are above the necessities of the earth and You are disgusted at making use of me. I deserved it. But come, then, and see what there is in the House of God. You will see how even priests do not refuse to come to a compromise between the spirit and the flesh. After all, they are men, and not angels. Work a spiritual miracle. I will take You up to the pinnacle of the Temple and You will undergo a transfiguration and become most handsome. You will then call the cohorts of angels and will tell them to form a footrest for Your feet with their interlaced wings, and to let You down, thus, into the main yard. So that people may see You, and remember that God exists. One must show oneself now and again, because man’s memory is so weak, particularly with regard to spiritual matters. You can imagine how happy the angels will be in forming a protection for Your feet and a ladder for You to descend!”
“It is said: ‘You must not put the Lord your God to the test.’ ”
“You understand that Your apparition would not change anything and the Temple would continue to be a market full of corruption. Your divine wisdom is aware that the hearts of the ministers of the Temple are nests of vipers, that tear and are torn to pieces for the sake of prevailing. They are subdued only by human power.
Well then, come. Adore me. I will give you the earth. Alexander, Cyrus, Caesar, all the great rulers, past or present, will be like the leaders of miserable caravans as compared with You, as You shall have the kingdoms of the world under Your scepter. And with the kingdoms, all the wealth, all the beautiful things on earth, women, horses, armies and temples. You will be able to raise Your Sign everywhere when You are the King of kings and Lord of the world. You will then be obeyed and respected both by the people and by the priesthood. All classes will honor and serve You, because you will be the Powerful One, the Only One, the Lord.
Adore me for one moment only! Appease this thirst of mine for being worshipped! It ruined me, but it is still left in me, and I am parched by it. The flames of hell are like a fresh morning breeze as compared to this fierce ardor burning inside me. It is my hell, this thirst. One moment, one moment only, Christ. You are so good! One moment of joy for the eternally Tortured One! Let me feel what it is like to be god, and I will be a devoted, obedient servant for all Your life and all Your enterprises. One instant, one instant only, and I will no longer torture You!” And Satan falls on his knees. imploring.
Jesus, instead, stands up. He has lost weight because of the long days of fast, and He now looks taller. His face is terribly sever and potent. His eyes are two burning sapphires. His voice is like thunder: it reverberates in the cave of the huge stone, and spreads over the stony, desolate plain when He cries: “Be off, Satan. It is written: ‘You must worship the Lord your God, and serve Him alone.’ ”
Satan, with a cry of fearful torture and indescribable hatred, springs to his feet, a dreadful sight in his furious, smoky figure. And he disappears with a last cursing yell.

Jesus is tired, and sits down, leaning back with His head resting on the stone. He looks exhausted. He is perspiring. But angels come to blow gently with their wings in the closeness of the cave, thus purifying and refreshing the air. Jesus opens His eyes, and smiles. I do not see Him eat. I would say that He is nourished by the aroma of Paradise, and is reinvigorated by it.
The sun has set in the west. He takes His empty haversack and in the company of the angels who, flying above His head, emit a mild light while it is getting dark very rapidly. He starts walking eastwards, or rather north-eastwards. He has resumed His usual expression, His step is steady. The only remaining sign of His long fast is a more ascetic look on His pale, thin face and in His eyes, enraptured with a joy which does not belong to this world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jesus says: (to Maria Valtorta)
“Yesterday you had no strength, which is My will, and you were, therefor, half-alive. I let your body rest and I made you fast the only way which is burdensome for you: depriving you of My word. Poor Mary! You kept Ash Wednesday. You tasted an ashen flavor in everything because you were without your Master. I did not let you perceive Me, but I was there.
This morning, as our anxiety is reciprocal, when you were half asleep, I whispered to you: ‘Agnus Dei qui tollis peccata mundi, dona nobis pacem’ and I made you repeat it many times and I repeated it to you many times. You thought that I was going to speak about that. No. First there is the subject which I showed you and upon which I will comment for you. Then this evening I will illustrate this other one.
As you have seen, kindness is always Satan’s disguise when he presents himself. He looks like an ordinary person. If souls are careful, and above all, if they are in spiritual contact with God, they percieve the warning that makes them cautious and prepares them to fight the devil’s snares. But if souls are distracted, separated from God by an overwhelming sensuality, and are not assisted by prayer, which joins them to God and pours strength into hearts of men, then they seldom perceive the snares hidden under the innocent appearance and athey fall into the trap. It is then very difficult for them to free themselves.
The two most common means adopted by Satan to conquer souls are sensuality and gluttony. He always starts from material things. Once he heas dismantled and subdued the material side, he attacks the spiritual part.
First the morals: thoughts with their pride and greed; then the spirit, obliterating not only its love–which no longer exists when man replaces divine love with other human loves–but also the fear of God. Then man surrenders his body and soul to Satan, only for the sake of enjoying what he wants, and enjoying it more and more.
You saw how I behaved. Silence and prayer. Silence. Because if Satan performs his work of seducer and comes round us, we must put up with the situation without any foolish impatience or cowardly fears. We must react with resolution to his presence, and with prayer to his allurements.
It is useless to debate with Satan. He would win, because he is strong in his dialectics. Only God can beat him. And so you must have recourse to God, that He may speak for you, through you. You must show Satan that Name and that Sign, not so much written on paper or engraved on wood, but written and engraved in your hearts. My Name, My sign. You should answer back to Satan, using the Word of God, only when he insinuates that he is like God. He cannot bear that.
Then after the struggle, there comes victory and the angels serve and defend the winner from Satan’s hatred. They restore him with celestial dews, with the Grace that they pour with full hands intothe heart of the faithful son, with a blessing that caresses his soul.
One must be determined to defeat Satan, and have faith in God and in His help. Faith in the power of prayer, and in the Lord’s bounty. Then Satan can do no harm.

Go in peace. This evening I will gladden you with the remainder.
(Maria Valtorta, “Poem of the Man God”)

“I have dictated to Maria Valtorta, a victim soul, a marvelous work. Of this work I am the Author. You yourself, Son, have taken account of the raging reactions of Satan…. You have verified the resistance that many priests oppose to this work. This also proves, Son, that he who has not sensed in the Poem the savor of the Divine, the perfume of the Supernatural, has a soul encumbered and darkened. If it were — I do not say “read” –but studied and meditated, it would bring an immense good to souls. This work is a well-spring of serious and solid culture…. This is a work willed by Wisdom and Divine Providence for the new times. It is a spring of living and pure water. It is I, the Word living and eternal, Who have given Myself anew as nourishment to the souls that I love. I, Myself, am the Light, and the Light cannot be confused with, and still less blend Itself with, the darkness. Where I am found, the darkness is dissolved to make room for the Light.” (Father Ottavio Michelini, “Confidences of Jesus to a Priest”)

Jesus says: «Too many people think that Judas did something of little importance. Some even go to the extent of saying that he is well deserving, because Redemption would not have taken place without him, and that he is therefore justified in the eyes of God.

I solemnly tell you that, if Hell did not already exist and was not perfect in its torments, it would have been created even more dreadful and eternal for Judas, because of all sinners and damned souls, he is the most damned and the biggest sinner, and throughout eternity there will be no mitigation of his sentence.

Remorse could have also saved him, if he had turned remorse into repentance. But he would not repent and, to the first crime of betrayal, still compatible because of the great mercy that is My loving weakness, he added blasphemy, resistance to the voices of Grace, that still wanted to speak to him through recollections, through terrors, through My Blood and My mantle, through My glances, through the traces of the institution of the Eucharist, through the words of My Mother. He resisted everything. He wanted to resist. As he had wanted to betray. As he wanted to curse. As he wanted to commit suicide.

It is one’s will that matters in things. Both in good and in evil. When one falls without the will to follow, I forgive.

Consider Peter. He denied Me. Why? Not even he knew why. Was Peter a coward? No. My Peter was not cowardly. Facing the cohort and the guards of the Temple he had dared to wound Malcus to defend Me, risking his own life thereby. He then ran away, without the will to do so. Then he denied Me, without the will to do it. Later he did remain and proceed on the bloody way of the Cross, on My Way, until he reached death on a cross. And then he bore witness to Me very efficiently, to the point of being killed because of his fearless faith. I defend My Peter. His bewilderment was the last one of his human nature. But his spiritual will was not present at that moment. Dulled by the weight of his humanity, it was asleep. When it awoke, it did not want to remain in sin, but it wanted to be perfect. I forgave him at once.

Judas did not want. […] What is the use of throwing away the price of the betrayal, when such deprivation is only the fruit of wrath and is not corroborated by a righteous will of repentance? Only in such case the act of divesting oneself of the fruits of evil deeds becomes meritorious. But he did not do that. A useless sacrifice.

My Mother, and She was Grace that was speaking and My Treasurer that was granting forgiveness in My name, said to him: “Repent, Judas. He forgives…” Oh! I would have forgiven him! If he had only thrown himself at the feet of My Mother saying: “Mercy! ” She, the Merciful Mother, would have picked him up as a wounded man, and on his satanic wounds, through which the Enemy had imbued him with the Crime, She would have shed Her tears that save and She would have brought him to Me, to the foot of the Cross, holding him by the hand, so that Satan might not snatch him and the disciples might not strike him. She would have brought him so that My Blood might fall first of all on him, the greatest of all sinners. And She would have been the admirable Priestess on Her altar, between Purity and Guilt, because She is the Mother of virgins and saints, but She is also the Mother of sinners.

But he did not want. Meditate on the power of free will, of which you are the absolute arbiters. Through it you can have Heaven or Hell. Meditate on what persisting in sin means.

The Crucified, He Who is holding His arms stretched out and nailed, to tell you that He loves you, and that He does not want and cannot strike you, because He loves you, and prefers to deprive Himself of the possibility of embracing you, His only sorrow in His being nailed to the cross, rather than have the freedom to punish you. Christ Crucified, the object of divine hope for those who repent and want to abandon sin, becomes for the unrepentant the object of such horror that makes them curse and be violent against themselves. They become the murderers of their spirits and bodies through their persistence in sin. And the sight of the Meek Saviour, Who allowed Himself to be sacrificed in the hope of saving them, takes the appearance of a horrifying ghost.”